


The People's Blacksmith

by Onehelluvapilot



Series: Gwenfest 2021 [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Awesome Gwen (Merlin), Blacksmith Gwen (Merlin), Blacksmithing, Character Study, Feminist Themes, Women Being Awesome, Women's Rights, no beta we die like women, of sorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:00:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28556514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onehelluvapilot/pseuds/Onehelluvapilot
Summary: Some musings on Gwen being a blacksmith how that interacts with her desire to help people, because we deserved more than just that one scene of her making a key
Series: Gwenfest 2021 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137071
Comments: 14
Kudos: 30
Collections: Gwen Fest





	The People's Blacksmith

Gwen made knives. After her father was executed for consorting with a sorcerer, their forge obviously lost its contract with the royal guard for making swords and armor, due to the two main blacksmiths now being gone as well as the forge itself being seen as cursed due to its use for magic. But Guinevere couldn’t bring herself to sell the building, as it felt like the last link she had to her family. The forge still needed upkeep, which her maid’s salary couldn’t cover, so she decided to start working in it herself. She had a good relationship with much of the lower town, so even though many people thought a girl couldn’t be a good blacksmith, no one harassed her for it and most potential clients were willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.

When she started, Gwen wasn’t very confident in her skill. She knew her father had been an amazing smith, and that he had taught her well, but she decided to stay away from harder projects such as knives and swords in favor of simple things like door handles and latches. They didn’t sell for nearly as much, but that was alright. She didn’t want to overcharge anyone, and if a family really needed an essential item, such as a stand to hang a pot over the fire, but couldn’t afford it at the time, she would set up a system where they could pay her in installments or trade her something for the work. Her most popular items were garden trowels and hooks to hang up jackets beside the door.

In some ways, working on the more common but less noticeable kinds of blacksmithing work gave Gwen a bit of an advantage over the other smithees in town. The owners of the two other forges were both scrambling to snag the commission for maintaining the royal armory now that the spot was open. Making swords and suits of armor, which were utterly inaccessible to anyone except the nobility, didn’t leave them much time to work on fulfilling the more everyday metalworking needs of ordinary people. The people of the lower town began to bring their requests for new candle sticks to Gwen instead, along with bridles and bits for their work horses and anything else they needed. She began to develop a reputation for being helpful above all else, and especially for always being willing to sharpen a trowel, axe, or knife for just pennies. It was a quick task that she could fit around her already busy schedule as Morgana’s servant, and made even easier by her father’s innovation to the sharpening wheel. On most grinding wheels, one person had to turn the crank while the other held the blade against it, but Tom had added a foot pedal to his so that it could be done easily by one person. If the other blacksmiths in town had given any thought to Gwen, they might have wondered how she managed to do so much without an apprentice and begun clamoring to look at her shop and see the new innovation, but as it was, they didn’t even notice the blacksmithing girl of the Lower Town.

When Morgana went missing, Gwen lost her job in the castle and had to make her living as a blacksmith full time. Simply sharpening tools and taking odd jobs wasn’t enough to sustain her without the maid’s salary as well, so she put aside her doubts about her ability and started working on the first knife she had made since her father’s death. It turned out better than she expected, but as soon as she put it up for sale, the problems started.

“A young woman shouldn’t be selling knives; it’s improper,” a man told her.

“It’s the only way I can make enough money to live,” she retorted, hands on her hips. “If you don’t want to buy a knife from me, that’s your decision, but it’s not your right to stop me from selling what I want to.”

That night her forge was broken into, and the second knife she was working on was stolen. She spent the day crafting new and stronger latches for the doors and making bars to put over the windows. There were no problems that night, but as soon as she started selling knives again, people stopped buying from her. Well, rather, men stopped buying from her. She had several women ask to buy knives, and one young woman she knew who lived with a couple of friends asked if she could make some bars for their windows. Apparently, they didn’t feel safe at night either.

Realizing a market that no one else was filling, Gwen stopped advertising her knives to the general population, and instead started a marketplace for just young women. News of it spread by word of mouth, and soon almost every maiden in the city had been to her forge. She was almost as popular among them as the scented soap stand at the market. Some of what she made was fairly innocuous; metal sewing needles and bracelets. Most of these were sold as a cover story, something for girls to show their parents as their reason for going to her forge, while the real purchase was hidden under their bodice. They bought small knives or pins or hair sticks with a sturdy sharp spike that could be used as a weapon if needed. The young women from the noble classes also came to her for locks if they had parents who didn’t respect their privacy, which they could attach to a chest and hide letters from suitors their families didn’t approve of or anything else they wanted to keep secret. Gwen didn’t ask questions if they didn’t want to talk, just provided it for a reasonable price along with an understanding ear.

“I need a suit of armor,” a girl asked one day. Or night, rather. She’d arrived just as the blacksmith was about to close up shop for the night. “Not a feminine style, something that will make me look like a man.”

“That’ll be expensive,” Gwen warned.

“I can pay. I just need it to keep me safe.”

“It’ll be strong,” the blacksmith reassured her client, who hadn’t given a name. “Let me take your measurements. And then it’ll take a few weeks to make, especially if you want it done secretly.”

“Yes, please.”

“Alright.”

She had it done within a few weeks, and her client returned in the night to pick it up, paying her in gold. Gwen had to go to one of the noblewomen she’d made a lock for and ask for her to split the money into smaller coins. She put most of it into the safe under her bed, as she knew that her market of selling knives to young women was becoming saturated and that that source of income was going to dry up soon. Fortunately, Morgana was returned to Camelot before she had to dip into her savings, and she got her maid position back. She kept the shop open in a limited capacity though, for those who needed it, and when Elyan returned and took over the forge, she made sure that he knew what was what and reassured her clients that they could trust him. When she became queen, the young women in the crowd cheered the loudest. The People’s Blacksmith, as they called her, had been as important as royalty to them long before her coronation.


End file.
